Butterflies
by Earth
Summary: An Eriol piece. Can get a little dark at times.


Body Ken: Hello, now that digimon 02 has ended, Earth has decided to steal me away before I, and I quote, "fade away into discarded unwatched reruns which air at ungodly hours." 

Earth: I couldn't help it, your soo cute! At least the 12 year old version, not that nasty future one. 

Ken: Hey! I like my future self. I'm a detective! 

Earth: Like hell you are. 

Ken: Anyway, I'm suppose to warn you that this fic gets a little dark at times so read with caution and enjoy! 

Disclaimer: Don't own CCS don't sue! 

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_Butterflies_ by Earth. 

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The boy waited, quietly, eyes fixated on the small creature in front of him. The slight wind blew dark bangs from his face, the sun warmed his back. His brow was wrinkled in concentration, his body still, eyes trained on his prize. Silently he raised him arm preparing to spring. One...two....THREE! 

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The kitchen smelt nice, like cinnamon and sugar. Warm sunlight filtered in through the wide windows. The boy sidled in, hands hidden behind his back. He stood there for a moment, still as a statue, eyes closed, listening to his mother sing. The melody washed over him, the richness of her voice soothed him, lulled him into thoughtless bliss. He relished times like these, of peace and happiness. Outside he could hear his father's faint whistle as he worked in the garden, rising and falling in happy harmony with his mother's voice. Everything seemed perfect, in place, the way it should be and the boy was content. 

Abruptly his mother's song cut off, jarring the boy to reality. She had noticed him standing in the doorway. Slight laughter followed. 

"Hello there Eriol," her voice was as melodious as ever. "And what are you doing sneaking in on your poor mother?" 

The boy's eyes snapped open and a mischievous grin split his face. He gazed up into his mother's warm eyes, twinkling with merriment. The mischievous grin turned into a shy one as he shuffled forward and present his mother with the gift he had held behind his back. 

His mother smiled and took the jar from him. Inside was a small butterfly, black with red and green markings. "It's beautiful" she murmured holding the jar up to the light. "Thank you very much Eriol. Come, let's set it free together." 

The boy's face fell. "Set it free?" he asked. "But don't you want to keep it for a pet?" 

"It will be happier if it's free Eriol, and because it's happier it'll be even more beautiful. And every time I see this butterfly, free and happy, I'll think of the happiness you bring to me each day." 

The boy grinned, "Papa is right when he says you have a butterfly spirit!" 

His mother smiled and took his hand. "And _you _have the spirit of a cat, little one." 

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Sitting patiently in the armchair, hands folded neatly, Eriol watched the baby-sitter. Sleeping as usual, but it didn't matter, Eriol could take care of himself, he was after all nine. He allowed his eyes to roam restlessly around the room, pausing when they alighted on the window. He studied the rain beating down heavily upon the glass, he could see his own reflection in the window and the dim shadows of the room, but he couldn't see out into the night. It didn't matter anyway, as it was black as pitch outside. To Eriol it felt as if this something about this night was ominous. Trying to ignore the strange feeling that had crept over him at that last thought, Eriol quickly turned from the window and continued to study the baby sitter. Perched in the armchair, he allowed himself to dose, the darkness from beneath his closed eyelids was warm and inviting, in contrast to that outside the window. He felt the darkness envelope him and welcomed it. So relaxed was he the he only registered slight surprise when he heard the voices, talking softly inside his head. _Hearing voices now are we?_ he mocked himself, _Papa's right, to many books_. Pushing the darkness away Eriol opened his eyes and was surprised to find himself standing at the window. He gazed at his reflection, the wide scared eyes staring back. The voices hadn't stopped. It seemed for a moment that his reflection wavered and began to change. Letting out a small yelp, Eriol placed his hand against the cold glass and pushed backwards, away from the window and the reflection. He hunched into a ball on the ground, shaking in fear. He wished the baby sitter would wake up, but through all of this she had not even stirred. Outside the storm raged. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the small boy. It was followed closely by the roar of thunder. Curled up like, this Eriol found himself listening to the voices invading his mind, tears of fear slipped down his cheeks. He realized with a start that they were the voices of his parents. Some of the fear evaporated then, as he finally recognized their familiar voices. Their voices sounded happy and excited, though a little slurry. They were talking about going into London for a few days. Eriol managed a fleeting smile, he would like to go to London again. 

The boy gasped as cold terror returned and hit him in waves. Not fear of his parents this time but fear for them. Inside his head, his father started to laugh, loudly. Eriol felt sick. His mother was giggling softly, then she was laughing as loud as his father. Then she was screaming. Eriol heard her scream, heard the screech of tires, the blare of the car horn. The crunch of glass. The world went black. 

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Eriol was having a funny dreams, he dreamt about floating cards, a winged lion and an angel. But most of all he dreamt of a man, a man with dark hair and glasses like his own. He knew that he had never met the man, but deep inside he found him frighteningly familiar. He kept having these dreams, in the short intervals of sleep during his long nights at the foster homes. Nights where he would lie impassively, staring at the ceiling, sleeping now and then, dreaming now and then. His spent his days alone, emersing himself in his studies or quietly contemplating his "situation" as social workers carried out the fruitless task of trying to find a relative for him to live with. Eriol could have told them it was a useless search, but adults don't usually listen to nine year olds. When he didn't contemplate his future, Eriol mulled over the strange dreams. They came more and more often now, sharper and clearer. And he found that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't forget the images, especially that of the strange man. 

The foster homes had sent him to school again, but everything was different. Fellow students gave him a wide berth, the death of his parents was just one more thing to set him apart from the others. Eriol didn't care, he'd never had any friends before, so he didn't miss anything, except his mother and father. He spent his days in the library, cramming his head full of knowledge, trying to block out the dreams. One day he stumbled across a book of Japanese legends, the book had intrigued him and he found himself looking for more information about that far off continent and it's mysterious nations. One thing had led to another and soon Eriol found himself hunched over a Japanese-English dictionary. If the social workers found anything odd in his sudden inexplicable thirst for knowledge of all things Asian, they said nothing, for it kept him occupied. The language came to him easily and he enjoyed it. Perhaps it was that Japan was part of his blood, that he felt so drawn to the language. He often murmured phrases to himself, which earned him odd looks from the other students. 

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He walked home alone everyday. Today wasn't any different, except today he wasn't paying attention to where his feet were taking him. He walked with his head bowed, somehow avoiding obstacles. He let his thoughts roam. The social workers thought they may have found something last night or, someone. A family in China. China, though he had read about it often, to Eriol it really did seem as though it was on another planet. And yet... 

_Crowded markets, hawkers selling their wares. The smell of fish, mixing with perfume. The thousand titters and songs of the birds for sale...._

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. They turned against him, returning the dreams, and the strange man. Abruptly he stopped when a wrought iron gate appeared before his feet. Eriol looked up though thick iron bars into the yard of a large house. It seemed to be deserted, the great yard overgrown and ill kept. The house itself looked like it once had been beautiful, but now that it had fallen into disrepair it's beauty had faded. He wondered why no one had done anything about the house beforehand. He watched the other people passing by in the street, no one seemed to notice the large. To the people who actually looked in it's direction it seemed as though their eyes slid over it, unseeing. Confused, Eriol turned his own gaze back towards it yes, it was ugly but something about it attracted him, drew him. Something tugging at the corner of his mind. Something about this house was special. Before he even realized what he was doing Eriol had lifted one hand, placed it on the gate and pushed. 

The hinges screamed in protest, rust flaked off and stained his hands. He wiped them absentmindedly on his trousers, forgetting momentarily of the scolding he would receive when the smears where found there. His mind was elsewhere. He picked his way across the stone walkway, careful of loose tiles. Weeds blossomed between the cracks. The porch creaked under his footsteps, sagging with the weight of time. The grand front door swung open silently almost before he touched it. Swallowing, he stepped into a cool marble hall, draped in elegant silk spider webs. His hard school shoes echoed throughout the dust covered room. Still ,there was something welcoming about the place. 

"Hello?" he called. But the only answer was his own question. 

The door to another room swung slightly in a sudden breeze. Eriol turned his feet towards it, cautiously making his way across the hall. It was a sitting room of some sort. A grand fireplace dominated the room, in front of it sat a large armchair. He crossed the room, footsteps now muffled by the thick carpet. The armchair looked inviting, despite it's dust. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, filling the room with strange shadows. Not quite understanding why, Eriol sat himself in the armchair, dust tickling his nose yet it felt somehow, _right._

A sudden wave of drowsiness over came him, Eriol blinked in surprise. His eyelids drooped as another wave assaulted him and by the third, he was asleep. 

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He was standing in the room, but it wasn't dust covered anymore. It seemed to be at the height of it's beauty. Polished surfaces gleamed in the firelight. Confused Eriol pushed himself out of the chair and wandered around the room. Each object he touched seemed some how familiar to him. He stopped in front of the mirror hanging on the wall. Gazing silently at the pale boy staring back he gasped when the reflection wavered and the changed. No longer was a boy looking out at him, but a full grown man. Eriol started as he recognized the man from his dream. The reflection however, did not mimic his action but remained impassive. Eriol studied the man curiously, he had blue back hair like his own, and glasses as well. The man's hair was long and draped in a single ponytail over his shoulder, he was dressed in decorative robes, it took Eriol a moment to realize that he himself was dressed in identical robes. 

"Who-who are you?" 

"Half of you." Eriol jumped back, he hadn't really expected the reflection to answer. Curiously he stepped forward again, staring suspiciously as the mirror. The reflection stared suspiciously back but Eriol thought he could see a twinkle of merriment in its eyes. Eriol's eyes widened and he gasped as he felt his arm being lifted towards the mirror by some unseen force. Desperately he tried to wrench it back down but to no avail. Frantically playing tug of war with himself Eriol turned terrified eyes towards the mirror. The reflection was serious now, it's eyes solemn. It was raising it's own arm. 

"It is time." 

Eriol winced as his hand touched and flattened against the icy glass of the mirror. The glass warmed as the reflection laid it's hand to Eriol's. 

A sort of half scream escaped the boy as memories washed over him. He shut his eyes tight, trying to stop the flood. These memories that were not from Eriol Hiiragizawa's life but from another's. Knowledge passed through him, into him. He knew. The cards. Cerberus. Yue. Clow Reed. 

Eriol opened his eyes slowly. He knew. He looked back at the mirror. His face looked back at him. His face, but _his_ eyes. Eriol's eyes now. Eriol raised his hand to the mirror once more, this time of his free will. His reflected hand rose to meet it. The glass was cool once more, and remained so. A single tear cut it's path down Eriol's cheek. 

"Clow Reed." The whisper echoed throughout the house. Eriol woke up. 

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The sunlight hurt his eyes, he shut them against the unwanted light. It was orange now, not white. He wondered how long he had been here. He cracked one eye open. The other followed quickly when he took in what he was seeing. 

The room was no longer dusty, the house no longer dilapidated. Something had happened. Eriol stood and moved to the window, the yards were no longer dirty and unkempt, but clean and beautiful. It was as if the blanket of dust and decay which had been covering the house had suddenly been torn away. Eriol sighed, he would remember this sight for ever. This and the similar memory that overlaid it. 

_You should go back_, a small voice said in his head. 

_Back where?_ a larger voice countered. 

_Home,_ came the small voice. 

_I am home._

The small voice was silent. 

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The marble was cool on his bare feet but Eriol hardly noticed it. His mind was preoccupied. Tonight was the night. Eriol pushed open the doors to the workroom. He pulled the curtains away from the windows, letting the night in. The familiar circle formed under his feet as Eriol summoned his power, releasing the pendant into a staff. He knew what he had to do. Cerberus and Yue must be countered. Eriol sat and opened his mind completely. 

_Let's see_, he mused. _Cerberus has breath of fire and Yue diamond shards, By bestowing the power of dun and moon on smaller creatures, those can be easily countered_. Yes, he knew what powers his creations must have in order to successfully counter the sun and moon guardians but one thing still eluded him. Appearance. Oh yes, appearance was very important. Eriol cleared his mind and waited. 

For a while nothing happened. Then a slight movement caught his inner eye. It was a butterfly, two actually. One black and red, the other black and green. Eriol was confused, but he watched them eagerly none the less. _Butterflies?_

_Every time I see this butterfly, free and happy, I'll think of the happiness you bring to me each day. _His mother. His mother and her beautiful butterfly spirit. His father. His father and his infectious laugh and jovial nature. 

_And **you** have the spirit of a cat, little one._

And himself. His family. Eriol knew what to do. 

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Eriol smiled down at his creations from the upstairs window, laughing silently to himself over their opposite natures. Still, they did manage to get along. Some of the time. Eriol smiled, yes he had lost much, but he had gained much as well. 

As usual, he returned to the mirror. The same reflection looked back for a moment before wavering and changing into another. A reflection of a young girl, with auburn hair and laughing jade green eyes. This time she is holding a star wand instead of the usual bird. 

Eriol smiles widely. "It's time." He said to the empty room. _It is time._

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Earth: oh gods! What possessed me to write this? 

Ken:........uh, it's.............ummm......_diffrent?_

Earth:"........" 

Ken: Review please before she threatens to throw herself off a bell tower again. 

Earth: Once, I did that ONCE! 

Ken: To much coca cola right Earth? 

Earth: PC cola, stupid imitation brand, can't even get a decent sugar high... 

Ken: Don't forget to review! 


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